Larry Goodell
		For the Cowboy Buddha On His 67th Birthday for Gino Sky The fence is always straddley-er on the greener side. Here is what we do: we’ll be dead in the onion city of paradise. Paradise: when the two rivers meet in a confusion of species. Species: all species all species all species. The river runs upward and downward and joins in the two cities of Monach-ma & Monach-ma Glory. Singing up flowing to a shattering waterfall. Birds winging in doubt, owls sitting there the Queen and King arguing over their debt. Rivers flowing up and down. Trees what species cycads gonads palm trees. What color are the men and women, what color are the little boys the little girls. At this point there were not too many men and women yet. There were not too many people. Purple dawn. Electrified. Misted a perfect rainbow to the West. Double rainbow, gifted, high from mountain side to lowering valley. Rare, on this your birthday. On my friend’s birthday in this mountainside of paradise. We are not arguing. We’ve never had a cross word. Creativity spills through our lives like rivers. Rivers going up and down, friendship, rising to a crashing waterfall: it is surprising what life lets live. That it should come to your 67th birthday and I’m 67 too. That we pull through in our separate paradise. Oh where there are onions and corn to pick, and all the best vegetables veggie tables. Mini farm, large heart. Friendship in the dawn, friendship in the heart closer than brothers, than sisters even in the flowing river up the rushing river down the waterfall, the desire, the flowing out. The space that doesn’t exist between us. Don’t take light of it, but make light of it deep underground stream artesian awake. As your novels & stories write themselves out Cowboy Buddha and poems and songs celebrate as my poems open like fans shake hands like friends build to their raga ending when the duende release leaves you on higher ground than you stood before thanks to higher ground that cloudy mountain side that obscure dream turns into rain the mist with sun in early early morning turn into the rainbow that is from me to you. Thanks to inordinate power the creative spirit of the heart, of the wings of the remembering mind of the paradise of two and all friends, all where true honest dreams are fulfilling, fulfilling fulfilling. Crashing down waterfall from the two rivers of our dreams. Reached the same age, together, apart in our high spirits body dreams, appreciative. Great great gratitude on both sides of the dawn.